The Bounty Hunter
by flockgrl18
Summary: "Did you REALLY think I was gonna stay in your trunk the whole time?" Max shouted. "Max c'mon!" Fang tried. "NO!" "Stop running!" "No! Leave me alone! I'm NOT going to JAIL!" Fang, the bounty hunter, must catch Max and take her to jail - but it's not easy
1. Max & Fang: EX Wife & EX Husband

**Watching the Boutny Hunter gave me this inspiration…. :] def. one of my favorite movies.**

**So far I've only planned Fang and Max's roles in this story. They're around ages 21ish I guess?**

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><p><strong>3<strong>**rd**** POV**

Smoke…..

_Why is my car _smoking? Fang, the bounty hunter, thought. Fan_tas_tic time for something to go wrong….

Then he remembered the girl in the trunk of his car…. Specifically, his ex-wife.

"Ah, shit," he muttered. "Max! _MAX_!" he shouted.

Even with his driver-side window open, the smoke was becoming thicker, so Fang pulled the car over onto the shoulder of the freeway.

He got out, slammed his door shut and popped to the trunk of his car, coughing through the foggy air. Max leaned out and tossed a bright flare into the street; before he could put in a word, she punched him—hard—in his stomach, making Fang double over.

She stood over him, angrily shouting, "Did you _really_ _think_ I was going to stay in there the whole time?" and PUSH! Max shoved him over, and watching him roll over on the ground, she took this opportunity to make a break for it.

"_Why_ do they always run…." Fang groaned, but he pushed himself up quickly and chased after her. "Max, _c'mon!"_

"NO!"

"Stop running!" he tried again, nearing her.

"_NO! Leave me alone! _I am _not_ going to jail!" she screamed back.

"Get…._back here!"_ with one last yell Fang launched himself forward, tackling a loud Max into the grass.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

24 hours earlier

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

_Location: New Jersey, during a 4__th__ of July Parade_

**FANG POV**

I leaned against the hood of my car, lazily watching the parade go by. "C'mon….where are you….." I was scanning the crowd for my 'bounty'—and today was the last day I had to bring him in.

A guy in stilts turned onto this street, coming towards me. He looked stupid, dressed in stars and stripes—red, white, and blue—but I could still tell I found the guy. "Bingo," I muttered, smirking. He was good, but I was better.

I walked a little closer to the parade, stepping in to the street. More loudly, I called out, "Hey Je-em!" I taunted, making him turn. He frowned as he searched the crowd. His eyes widened as he spotted me. "Yeah, YOU, ya jackass! C'MERE!" I shouted, going after him.

Immediately a big, big dude stepped in front of me. "Surprise," he said, grinning at me unpleasantly.

I groaned. "Not now, Dwight. I'm kind of busy."

"You _owe_ my boss money."

I laughed dryly. "I owe lots of people money."

My laugh was cut short when he socked me in the stomach. I muttered a string of cuss words, and—while I was down there—I elbowed him 'elsewhere'…making Dwight double over. I kneed him in the head, then tossed him to the side where he crashed into some concession stand.

I paused, catching my breath. I still had Jem in my sight—though it didn't take that much effort to spot a guy towering over the parade on stilts.

I ran, taking a few shortcuts through the parade, and accidentally bumped a guy juggling three torches; he missed and the torches landed on the float, exploding into flames.

Finally, I caught up to Jem and grabbed onto the stilts, but they came loose. I looked up in surprise and saw him climbing up the fire escape of the apartment building next to us.

He was heading to the roof.

I tossed the stilts aside in annoyance and went inside, taking the stairs three at a time 'til I reached the top.

There he was—runnning….towards me? Probably towards the door to the stairs.

He backtracked when he saw me and started running away, but there was only so far you could go on a rooftop. So what did he do when he reached the edge?

He jumped.

And I jumped after him, knowing I could take a four-story fall. Hey—I said I was good—and I meant it!

Turns out there was a Police van below us and we both hit the top hard, bouncing off of it and tumbling to the ground.

Immediately, eight cops encircled us, guns aimed. "Hands up! Now!" they yelled.

I groaned and lifted up one hand; I tossed my badge in front of me, saying, "Take it easy, I'm on the job."

One of them, with blonde hair and blue eyes, picked it up and read it. His badge said he was "Dylan", but once he spoke to me, I labeled him as "douchebag"… "Well, well, well! What do we have here," he said smartly, reading my badge. He tucked away his gun and smirked. "He's a _bounty hunter," _he sneered.

The other cops smirked and laughed along with him. Dylan plowed on. "Figures. Why don't you just get a _real_ job?"

I already hated his guts. "Whydon't you just _kiss my ass?"_ I shot back, grinning as I got to my feet. He glared at the cop next to him, who went "Oohhh!"

I roughly pulled Jem to his feet. "Your mother must be _very_ proud," I said, cuffing his hands behind his back. He was a young kid—like, 19. So a kid this young skipping out on court is pretty disappointing. I was doing so well at his age.

"Oohh, I am _so_ insulted." He said, panting still. "And actually, for your information, I don't even know who my mother is!" He shot back, as if to try and out-insult me. "So HAH! The jokes on _you_."

Dylan came up to us as another cop took hold of Jem. Dylan said, "Turn around, shithead, and put your hands behind your back."

I realized he was talking to me. "_What?_ You have gotta be kidding me…"

"You heard me. Turn around."

I groaned, being forced to do so by another officer.

I gave my death glare to Jem, but he was too busy laughing at me to notice…

**MAX POV [writer for the **_**Daily News**_** newspaper]**

I hated my work attire; no casual-anything allowed; In fact my friend Monique helped me pick this one out for my trial: a short-sleeved white button up tucked into a fitting gray skirt.

I exited the elevator, leaving the other men staring. It was actually kind of funny.

I guess I gotta thank Monique—at this rate, I'd get a boyfriend _and_ the Judge'll let my case go.

I passed my co-worker Gary and asked him, "Hey Gary; did you get my email?"

I kept on walking, so he had to turn around as he spoke, even though he was heading in the other direction. "Uh, yeah, about the suicide; he's got a sister in Atlantic City—address is on your desk!"

"Thank you!" I called.

"Anytime—"he replied. I don't think I was supposed to hear him say, "Day or night…." Which he added.

"I heard that!" I smirked, earning no reply.

I passed Sam on the way to my desk, feeling him watching me from behind. Long story short: we made out _once_; he's now undeniably in love with me. And I guarantee you it is _not_ mutual…

I found a sticky note attached to a paper taped to my computer screen. The paper had my mugshot from the police station, and the note read: _Don't forget! Court tomorrow! 9 am._

"Ha, ha—very funny, guys!" I called out, and a few others snickered nearby.

Sam smoothly sat on the edge of my desk, grinning at me. "I think it's pretty sexy that you're out on bail."

I took a deep breath, immediately tearing the paper in half with a loud _rrriiiiip!_ "Sam, off my desk. Now."

He pursed his lips and awkwardly slid off. "Right. Sorry…"

"It's ridiculous that I even got arrested in the first place," I muttered angrily, tossing the crumpled mugshot into the trash.

"Mmhm."

"I mean _assaulting an officer?_ That's a _joke!"_

"Psh. Yeah, tell me about it!" he agreed. He changed the subject, knowing he was losing his act. "So hey—did you get anything on that suicide case?"

"Uh…no but—"

"Yeah 'cause you know what I was thinking? I was thinking that we should work together on it. As a team—"

"Ah—" NO!

"—that way you can get it done a lot faster and it gives us a little time to, uh, you know, reconnect our…relationship."

"Sam…" I growled, turning on my computer. "We are _not_ in a relationship. We made out _one_ time at the Christmas party. I was _very_ drunk; heartbroken." I let out a frustrated sigh. "I would've made out with Terry."

He laughed, but seeing my look realized I was serious. "Wait—Terry the guy or Terry the girl?"

I smirked. My turn to laugh. "See? Exactly—it wouldn't have mattered."

He grinned again. "You're right—because you made out with _me!"_

I just faked a smile, grabbed my phone, and said, "Yes, Sam, yes I did. Now I have to go use the bathroom."

Once inside, I made sure it was empty and locked myself in one of the stalls. I dialed a guy named Jimmy, the guy feeding me information for my article.

"Helloo, this is Jimmy." The noisy background told me he as at work at his bar.

"Hey, Jimmy, it's Max—from the _Daily News. _ Listen, I need you to ask around about a suicide: A Walter Lily; Rivington Street; the night of June 23rd."

I heard him writing it down… "23….. Got it. Anything else?" he asked.

"Oh, yes….uh…." I racked my brain for the other information. "There was a black SUV with stolen plates at the scene. So, I dunno, there may be something else—you never know."

"O-kay—If I hear anything I'll give you a shout."

"Great thanks!" I said, cutting our connection.

…Yup, my article will be the best in the paper; all I need now is a little more proof…

I breathed out a slow sigh…

Then I heard: "Who are you talking to?" making me jump and slide my heels together with an audible click.

I angrily stood up and burst out of the stall. "SAM! What the _hell_ are you doing in the ladies room?"

He came out of the next-door stall grinning. "Well, you see, I was standing outside of the door, there," he explained, gesturing over his shoulder to the exit, "but then I started to feel a little creepy."

I was dumbstruck. "So _this_ is the less creepy option?"

Sam was still grinning. "Yup, I think so," he replied, nodding his head.

I gave up on this conversation. "Get out of here," I told him, marching forward and holding the door open.

"Aw, c'mon, Max. Hey! I have an idea—let me buy you a drink."

"I have a date." I growled. Not that I really did, but it's not like I was ever going to say yes.

"Wait—I didn't say which night! So you CAN'T be busy!" he smirked. "Nice try, Max."

I huffed and glared at him. "Okay, how about this: I have a date. Every single night until the end of time. Okay? So please—_stop asking me!"_

I stormed out, but not before hearing him laugh and say to himself, "Ahhh, love is _so funny_, isn't it?"

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Rivington Street

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

I was currently on the last rooftop Walter Lily ever stood on in his life. It was a building on the corner of the street, and a good height above the ground. I peered over the railing on the corner of the rooftop when I heard the chiming of my cellphone behind me, cutting off my train of thoughts.

The caller ID read 'MOM'.

"Hi, Mom," I said, not too enthusiastic.

"Hi, honey—is this a bad time?"

I went back over to the railing and looked down, still pondering over that suicide. "I'm….uh….I'm kinda in the middle of something. But while I have you on the phone, let me ask you this: If you were going to jump off a building, would you choose the side 'trees?'" I asked, looking down on the left side of the railing, lined with shady trees. "Or would you choose 'sidewalk', with a straight view below?" The right side of the corner was all sidewalk, with more people passing.

"Well, the trees would certainly make for a prettier picture on the way down. But then it might break your fall, so I might not succeed in the end," she answered.

"So…you'd pick the sidewalk?"

"Definitely. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, well, I'm at a rooftop, on the corner of 6th and Rivington, and—"

Now she sounded panicked. "Now you listen here, young lady, you have every right to hate your life—"

Huh? "What—_Mom—"_

"—and I mean, who wouldn't—the choices you made—"

"Mom!"

"—and that whole thing with Fang and—"

"_Mom!"_ I yelled.

She paused her rant. "What?"

Good, lord, she can worry. I shouldn't have said that—Mom immediately thought of the suicide. "I'm workin'!" I replied. "I'm not actually here to jump!"

"Oh."

I sighed and massaged my forehead, feeling a headache coming on. "I'll call you later, Mom."

"Um…okay. But, you know, just to clarify—" I groaned, but I couldn't stop her this time. "We all make mistakes, sweetie. You married a man who made you crazy and you divorced him for the same reason—"

"S_orry Mom! _ I have to go!" I cut in, immediately ending the call.

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><p><strong>Currently working on chapter two…..please Review! How'd it flooowww? ;) <strong>

**Happy Thxgiving Everyone!**

**PS: what am I thankful for? Family….friends…..reviews….oh, you know…. :]**


	2. Best Day Ever: Hunting the Wife

**FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DIDN'T GET IT: READ READ READ THIS!**

**********Simpy put,**

**Fang is a bounty hunter. Bounty hunters' jobs are to track down people who have ditched court.**** He **_later_** has to track down Max, but that hasn't happened yet. The guy Fang was chasing in the beginning was just some other random guy he had to take in to the police. Fang himself was arrested because he started that fire when he bumped the dude with the torches in the parade. **

**Max is a reporter and writer for the Daily News. She is currently writing an article on WALTER LILY, who committed suicide****, jumping off that building. She went there to see it herself, because she feels something is off in the way he died. **

**FANG AND MAX WERE MARRIED, but are now ****divorced. **

**More explained later.**

**Thx to the **_**unknown **_**reviewer~! And **_**20 Toes**_** for reviewing!**

**Hope I explained it better!**

**FANG POV**

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_Police Station: JAIL_

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**A/N: IGGY IS NOT BLIND. :3**

I smirked to myself, seeing my buddy Iggy enter the station to bail me out (Background info: Iggy was my ex-partner [_ex_ because I'm no longer on the force] when we worked together in the police station; he even walked Max down the aisle for our wedding.).

"I _do not_ like getting these phone calls," he told me, as I dug into my meal. We had driven to a nearby diner to get some food.

"Hey, man, _I'd_ bail you out if you ever got in trouble," I replied.

"But you _can't_, because _you _ain't no cop anymore!" Huh. I guess since he was still an officer, Ig had the right to just sign me out.

"Wait what do you mean, 'these calls'?" I asked him. "This was only the second time you've had to bail me out." I was a mess _then_, I know, but frankly I thought I was doing pretty well _now_.

"Look," Iggy tried again. "I know this is a very tough time for you."

I forced a chuckle, to try and convince him I didn't know what he was talking about. "What are you talkin' about—"tough"; it's summer—who doesn't love summer?"

"_And_ I'm trying to be sensitive about you're situation!"

"What—a guy that works his own hours? Has his freedom? Lives the high life?" I took another bite. _ Drop the topic, Ig. Drop it…_

Of course, telepathy doesn't exist. So he didn't get the message.

Instead, Ig asks me, "Have you talked to her?" Her, of course, meaning Max.

I played dumb. "Talk to who?"

He rolled his eyes. "Katy Perry—who do you think?" he said, sarcastically.

I pushed my plate aide, no longer hungry. I turned to him, suddenly irritated. "Why in the hell would I talk to _her_?"

Ig frowned. "You know, maybe I should of left your ass in jail…"

"Would you relax?" I picked up my coke, taking a long gulp. "I'm fine."

"Dude, you are _not_ fine! You are a mess—a man in pain. Now how do you think that makes _me_ feel, since I introduced the two of you?"

"I guess that makes this whole thing your fault, then, huh?" I told him, smirking.

He groaned and put his head on the table, giving up on our conversation.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Outside of the couthouse

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**MPOV**

I paid the driver and got out of the cab, running face to face into my lawyer, Nino Pierpoint.

"Hello," he said unhappily. "I told you to be here exactly 30 minutes early; _you are_ _late._"

"Yeah, but just a little." I brushed it off as we headed to the stairs leading up to the courthouse.

"You have _got_ to take this more seriously, Ms. Ride—it's you against the entire police force."

"How can I take this seriously, Nino? _It was a freaking fender bender!"_ My cell started ringing and I paused as we were halfway up the steps. "Oh, I gotta take this."

"You have four minutes." he told me.

"Hello?" I answered, walking down a couple steps for privacy.

"It's Jimmy—I've got something for you on that suicide story."

"Uh," I looked at Nino, who was staring at me a few feet away. "That's great, Jimmy, really; but I'm gonna need to call you back in an hour—"

"No, that won't work. This can't wait, Max. I might already be in trouble with all this shit…" he sounded more worried now.

"I'm kind of in a mess of my own, Jimmy, now's not really a good time."

"Dunkin' Donuts on Sunset Park. Half an hour; bring cash. Be there or I'm selling it to someone else," he demanded.

He hung up on me then and there, despite my protesting. "Dammit, Jimmy…" I muttered, stuffing my cell away in my bag.

"Okay! Time's up!" Nino said, coming towards me.

"Oh, I have to make just _one_ more phone call," I told him.

"Max, no—"

"Please, Nino, just go on inside; I promise it'll be quick. I'll be _right _behind you_,"_ I added. _Please, please, please go….!_

"When the Judge calls your case, you better be sitting _right next_ to me, Maximum Ride," he muttered, heading towards the courthouse.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

10 minutes later

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"And your client is _where?"_ the Judge asked Nino Pierpoint.

"Uh—" he stuttered, looking around, expecting Max to walk in at any moment. "Well, she _was_ here...Your Honor, and I think she deserve points for that…" he tried. "I, uh, think she'll be walking through that door any second."

After a few more seconds of Max not showing up, Nino loosened his tie and said awkwardly, "You know, instead of keeping the court waiting, why don't we just reschedule for another time?"

"Council, your clients bail is revoked. I will not tolerate this in my court. Next case." She slammed her hammer, decision final.

Nino silently cursed Max's name….

If Max wasn't in court by the next appearance on Monday, he wouldn't get paid.

Once Nino got outside, he took out his phone. He didn't call Max, he called a bounty hunter.

"Hello? Yes—I'll pay you $5000. Her name is Maximum Ride; she skipped out on court. I need her found before Monday morning."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Dunkin' Donuts parking lot

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_With Jimmy_

He tapped the his steering wheel, waiting nervously for Max to arrive. _Oh, God, please show up, Max, please show…_ Every bit of his body was going haywire…

Suddenly, a crowbar smashed through his driver-side window, and a beefy guy yanked his door open, roughly pulling him out. "C'mere!" the guy shouted at Jimmy, dragging him on his feet. He tossed him into a big black SUV, telling him, "Get in, and stay. put."

Jimmy did as he said, not saying anything even when his kidnapper got in the drivers seat.

Sadly, just as they were pulling out of the parking lot, he saw a taxi pulling inside—and Jimmy just saw a flash of Max's blonde hair through the backseat window.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"Sid's Bail Bonds"—The bounty hunter company Fang works for.

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**FPOV**

"Hey princess," a man said sarcastically. It was enough to pull me out of my sleep. I recognized the voice of Sid, my boss. "Wake up, I don't want you droolin' on my sofa." Yes, there was a sofa at my workplace—though the whole place was pretty crappy. It was a small store-looking place on the corner of an intersection.

Inside was the sofa on the left, a wooden desk (belonging to the secretary's, Lissa) covered in papers, a filing cabinet with a fan on top, and a couple chairs stacked in the back.

I sat up slowly. He tossed me a soda and we headed outside.

Turns out Sid was packing for a camping trip he was taking his kids on. "How about you? Any plans for the weekend?" he asked, putting a large fold up chair in the back of his car.

"Nah, just the usual."

"What—you mean getting drunk on cheap whiskey and punching your fist through the wall?"

I didn't do that, but I humored him anyway by saying, "Why, jealous?"

He chuckled, shutting his trunk. "That's okay then….I'll just get somebody else to do it."

That perked my interest. "To do what?"

He looked at me warily. "Nah…I dunno, man. You shouldn't."

This man was crazy. "Sid, I'm the best you got. And you know I need this job—What's the problem with it? Is the person a psychopath or something?"

He pursed his lips. "No….I just don't think you're the right person for the job…" He took a sheet of paper out of his paper and handed it to me, seeing my look. "But you asked for it."

I unfolded it and immediately looked back up at Sid. "Is this a joke?"

He slowly shook his head, drawing out the word "Nooope."

I looked back down t the mugshot of Max. I chuckled slightly and pointed at the paper. "She got _arrested? Max?"_

Sid shrugged. "All I know is that she skipped out on her bail hearing in court."

"Why the hell did you print this paper?" He must've handed out a bunch of copies of this case to other bounty hunters.

"Hey—I'm a businessman. I don't have time to wait around."

I read the bottom of the page and saw Sid's offer. "Wait—so you're telling me that I'll get paid $5,000 to find my wife and bring her to jail?"

"Hey, you're a good listener!" he replied sarcastically.

I tossed the paper up and let it flutter to the ground. "Sid, you just made my day. Just watch—I won't even break a sweat!" I called, already running off.

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><p><strong>Okay….some of you are still confused.<strong>

**1~YES. Max was arrested for assaulting an officer, and YES you can go to jail for that. You cant just attack an officer and walk free.**

**2~Fang is a bounty hunter. If you read my A/N at the TOP OF THE PAGE, you'd know Fang is paid to find criminals that run, and don't come to court. MAX DID NOT GO TO COURT. Even though she had a reason to not come, she still skipped court.**

**3~Fang must now hunt down Max, find her, and bring her in to the police. BAM. Paid $5000.**

**4~I cannot provide background details as they will be provided as we go. I CAN tell you ****Max and Fang were married. It didn't work out so they divorced.**** That's it.**

**Anyone still confused? **

**I cut this short so I could explain. So any more questions? Ill update one more time tonight….and pls review if u get it! If u don't, pls review with the reasons why and hopefully I'll help! ;)**


	3. Trunks & Flares: BAD

**SHOUTOUT TO: **_**TakeItBack~**_** Glad to have someone who enjoys the same things! ;) I give u the (imaginary) Best Review Award!**

**TO MPHknows: I will probably use your OC. I introduced her in this chapter, and I just have to figure out how to work her into the rest of the story ;) thx!**

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><p>-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

**FANG POV**

I was currently inside Max's house. _Time to give her hell for all those bad months of marriage._

…here's a hint, in case you haven't figured it out yet: Max + I = BAD. The last few months of our marriage was full of pure hatred. So thus: the divorce.

I lived in a teeny apartment—so of course, seeing her _big_ house made me mad. So…I took out my anger a bit. Nothing harmful.

I just….'accidentally' left some muddy tracks in the house…kind of ate a few Doritos on her bed…fooled around with her TV…

Oops! Did I delete some recordings on TiVo? _My_ bad, Max…

A creak downstairs ended my fun, and I hopped off her bed, slowly climbing down the stairs. The front door shut, and I heard Max coming my way….

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

**MAX POV**

The door was open so I silently crept inside. Somehow, I already knew someone was inside the house. Call it a sixth sense.

I ducked around the corner, not wanting to be seen by them.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

**FANG POV**

I heard them louder now; closer. I pulled out my pistol and showed myself, saying: "Hello, love."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

**MAX POV **

I accidentally found myself in Jimmy's bedroom (**A/N: For all the slow folks out there: Fang is in Max's house, Max is in Jimmy's house.)**. It was exactly where I wanted to be. I searched his room quickly, trying to find some sort of clue that explained his disappearance.

I heard loud footsteps coming towards Jimmy's room. Panicking, and finding nothing, I lifted the window up and dived out.

I landed on an uncomfortable shrub, sticking into the nice black dress I was wearing. I stifled a groan, but rolled over and pulled myself up.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

**FANG POV**

I sat on one of the sofas, across from Sam, my gun hot in my hand.

This guy was a _total_ weiner. But I allowed him to explain.

"Well, I was in the neighborhood and I decided to stop by. See, I had lent her some paintbrushes a few months ago and I thought maybe I could—" I cocked my gun and pointed it at him, making him stutter and raise his hands. "Ok-ok-ok! Ok look: she didn't show up in court today a-and I think it's because she has a lead on some story she's working on. A-a-and _I_ want to work on it with her because I believe it would help build our….um, you know…._thing."_

Now I wanted to shoot him where he sat. I calmly held my gun in his direction. "Are you _sleeping_ with her, Sam?" My trigger finger was very itchy, right now…

He looked like he started to shake his head 'no,' but then he stopped and said, "We—we have a history."

I chuckled, not buying it. "A history, huh? Well—good luck with that."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

2 minutes later

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

I was currently ranting on about Max.

"You see, Sam, she'll make you think that she's into you; but really, she's only into her big hot-shot career," I was saying.

Sam' face lit up. "Oh—oh wow. Wait a minute—you're _Fang_, aren't you?"

This guy is so slow…. I gave him a look that said, _Yeah, so?_

He was grinning now. "Max talks about you _all the time!_"

I smirked. "Really?" Huh. I'd say she's still into me, but then Sam added:

"Oh yeah. Yeah man, absolutely." He laughed. "She _hates_ you."

My eyes shot up and I looked at him in surprise. "Max—she hates _me?"_

"Oh yeah. Big time," he said, laughing slightly. "She says you're, like, the most selfish, immature—"

Now I was annoyed. "Whoa—_I'm_ selfish? _I'm_ immature?"

"Yeah. That's what she said. Also, uh, stubborn…"

I waved him off, interrupting his list. "You know what? Forget it. But just for the record?" I walked over to the Max's kitchen phone and angrily pressed redial. _ "I'm_ the one that hates _her_," I told Sam, who held his hands up in surrender.

A lady answered the phone. "Rogotto Hotel, Atlantic City—How may I redirect your call?"

I smirked and hung up the phone. "Figures…go running home to Mommy…"

Next step for me: time to have a chat with the mother-in-law…

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

**MPOV**

I was on the road now, driving back from Jimmy's and talking to Iggy. I told him about what I had found at Jimmy's house. Hopefully, with Iggy being a cop and all, he could find something.

"Jimmy? You mean the bartender from _Old Dule's_ Bar?"

"Yeah, and I'm really worried about him," I said. "His car was there; his window was _smashed. _It was all just…not right."

Iggy paused before asking, "What was he looking into?"

"That suicide on Rivington a couple of weeks ago. Something about it just does not add up."

"Okay, well I'll see what I can do about your friend Jimmy."

I sighed in relief. "Okay…thanks Ig."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

**FPOV**

I was just ending my call with Max's mom. "So….you don't know where she's at?" I asked. Not the answer I was looking for.

"No, I'm really sorry Fang. We were actually supposed to meet up for lunch but she blew me off for some interview. " I rolled my eyes, _typical Max. _ "Said she had to go someplace to 'suck up some luck' …like I'm supposed to know what _that_ means…"

Suck up some luck?

I grinned. I knew _exactly _where she was at.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

_Monmouth Race Track_

**MPOV**

The trumpets blared a familiar tune, signaling the beginning of the horse race.

I sat in section D, in an empty row so I could have some space. I was looking through my notes on that suicide, trying to make sense of it all.

The guy—Walter Lily—picked the side of the building where trees grew next to the sidewalk. If he were trying to kill himself, _why_ would he pick that side? The trees would possibly save his life.

To make it more confusing, Walter Lily was _afraid_ of heights. He wouldn't—

My train of thoughts were interrupted by my cell phone.

It was Sam.

"Look, you're in some kind of trouble," I heard him say. "Where are you?"

LIE. "Uh, um…well, I'm in the city, actually…"

He paused before saying, "No—no you're not; I hear those trumpets, too—you're here! At the track!"

CRAP. He heard the trumpets.

Wait—"You're _here?"_ I screeched. Why would he possibly—_how_ could he have found me? "How did you know where I was?"

"Hello, Max."

I froze, slowly putting my phone down and hanging up.

That wasn't Sam who said that; oh no—I recognized that voice.

I whirled around in my seat and looked to my right. I saw Fang, sitting there all casually. Looked the same, actually—dressed in black jeans and a black tee…and still wearing his hair all floppy.

"Hi…Fang…" I said, not really sure of what to say.

Fang took off his shades and flashed me his signature smirk. "Fancy meeting you here."

I almost frowned. Something was off, here. "Yeah, fancy…fancy _that…"_

"How are you?"

It took me a while to reply. Maybe Fang's just different. It just felt so weird to actually have a conversation with him. "Good," I replied. "You?"

He was still watching me with that smirk, which I swear got a little wider when he replied: "Swell."

Swell? Swell? My Fang does NOT say swell.

…Actually, now that I think about it, _who_ says swell?

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" he continued, turning towards the track to see the horses lining up.

…something's going on—Fang _never_ talks like that, either.

I just looked at him, with my 'weirded out' expression.

He flashed me a smile, now, as he said, "You look great, Max. Really—" he stood and came to stand directly in front of me, leaning against the seats of the next row. "Just as beautiful as the day we first met."

If it weren't for two things, I would've been flattered. 1—Fang, like I had said, doesn't talk like that; and 2—I wouldn't have worn this short, black dress _or_ these black heels when we first met.

I shook my head. "Well, this has been _grand—" _I laughed dryly, stuffing my papers away in my bag. Hitching it onto my shoulder, I added, "I dunno _what_ you're up to, but I'm working." I stood up and started to pass Fang, but instead he put his leg up on the bench, blocking my path.

"Oh, you're working?" he repeated. He gave me another smirk. "Me too."

I stared at him in disbelief. "I heard you got kicked off the force."

He looked at me more smugly. "Have you been checking up on me?"

"Noope." I said, drawing out the word.

"_Concerned_ about me?" he continued.

"Uh—I haven't given you a thought, actually," I told him, causing him to laugh.

"Hey—I'm just trying to keep some sort of _small_ connection between us."

I huffed and gestured to his leg. "Are you going to _move_ this leg?" I demanded.

He pretended to think about it, looking all around us before saying, "Uh…..no."

Now he was pissing me off. "You know, I thought we'd behave like _adults_ the first time we saw each other after the divorce." I rolled my eyes. "But _whyyy_ would I think that when only _one of us_ is actually an adult?" I questioned, referring to myself.

"Like I said," Fang started, giving me a look that said, _I'm an adult too—just listen up!_ "I've been working. And what I _do_ is I hunt down criminals. Uh, _idiots_ thatjumpbail, specifically." He added more quietly. Whoops. That sounded like me.

I stifled a laugh. No way. "_You_ are a _bounty hunter?"_

He actually chuckled. "Yeah. And as much as it pains me to say this—and it _really_ does—I gotta take you to jail."

I started laughing this time, making him chuckle with me. "Oh, okay…who put you up to this; somebody at the paper?"

"Nope. Just little ol' state of New Jersey," he said, taking hold of my elbow. "Shall we—"

I yanked my arm away angriliy. "_Don't_ you touch me. Do you really think you're taking me anywhere?"

Fang's eyes flashed with humor. "No. Not anywhere. Just—_jail_."

I graoned and rubbed my forehead, looking back at him. "God dammit, Fang, you don't get it—I am in the middle of something very important!"

He sighed and looked at me. "Ok, ok, I'll tell you what—if you want to make a break for it, I will give you a ten-second head start, for old times' sake."

I let out an exasperated sigh. "I am an _adult_, Fang. I'm—"

"Ten."

I frowned at him. He was actually doing this.

"Nine."

"Fang, if you—"

"Eight."

"—really think I—"

The bell rang and the horses were off, tearing around the track.

"Seven."

I gave up and ran. Ran faster than ever, because there is no way in hell I am going to jail.

I heard him behind me shouting, "SIX! FIVE! FOUR!"

Crapola.

First, I took a trip through the track's main building, where people were lining up and placing bets; watching the race on the TV's they had.

Exiting the building from the front doors I turned right and hit the brakes, letting out a yell of surprise.

Fang stood there, smiling. "Try again," he told me.

I muttered, "Shit," and backtracked, running in the other direction.

I tried heading through the food court, but then Fang turned the corner and stopped me in my path. To my frustration, he even had the time to buy popcorn, which he tilted in my direction. "Extra butter," he said, smirking, "just the way you like 'em."

I angrily slapped the bag out of his hands and ran away again.

This time, Sam was waiting for me.

I stopped and tried to go around him. I went left, he followed me, I stepped right, he stepped right in front of me; like we were freaking _dancing._

"Sam!"

"Why'd you hang up on me?"

"STOP IT!"

"No!"

"GO AWAY!"

"NO! Let me help!"

"_No_, Sam!"

"Please!"

"NO!" I finally ran around him. (gosh all this running felt horrible in heels….)

I saw a line of taxis parked in front and I sighed in relief. "Taxi!" I called.

Before I reached them a blue car pulled up in front of the taxis and Fang came out. "I am _not_ going to jail." I stated.

"Oh, I beg to differ," he replied. He stepped in front of me and pulled out his gun, holding it up.

I looked at him in disbelief. "Oh, what—you're going to _shoot me?"_ Like he could do that.

He smirked and shook his head as I shoved past him towards the other taxis. "Nope." More loudly, he called, "I'm gonna shoot a cab driver!"

I looked at him in bewilderment, seeing him point it at the driver of the nearest taxi.

I assume all the other drivers heard him, because I heard all of them immediately start locking their doors, not allowing me in. I groaned in frustration as I tried to pull open a door to the cab. "No!" I tried to tell the driver. "C'mon! he doesn't mean it! He's not serious!" I explained.

"Nope." Fang said, coming closer. "I mean it."

I screamed in frustration. "Aaghhh, _chicken-shits!"_ I yelled at all the cab drivers, walking up to Fang. "Alright, we have to talk about this," I said.

"Fine." Fang stepped closer, so his body was flush against mine. "what do you want to say?"

I almost stuttered, not used to him so close. I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him back a foot. "Um.,..I'm _not_ letting you take me to jail."

He nodded and said, "Noted." With that, he bent down and in the blink of an eye had me over his shoulder, my face upside down and facing his back.

I screamed in surprise, then started pounding on his back. "FANG! You have GOT to be kidding me! You, STOP IT! FANG, you piece of _shit_!" He clicked something. "Put me down! God dammit—_whahhH!"_ I let out another scream as I was suddenly flipped into his arms and set into the back of his trunk.

Wait…..trunk. Trunks are bad; trunks are very, very bad!

"FANG! You can't be putting me into a TRUNK! You can't be _serious-_" My shouting was cut short as he slammed the trunk in my face.

"I'm _dead serious."_ I heard him say.

I screamed some more, entirely outraged.

He was actually serious. I felt the car start movie and I started panicking. "Fang! GET ME OUT OF THIS TRUNK!"

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

_With Jimmy_

"_Blue Ink" Tattoo parlor_

**JIMMY'S POV**

This guy—I found out his name was Ari? Ari Mahler. He just kidnapped me! ME of all people! I'm just a freakin' bartender!

All I know is that we were at some Tattoo place, and I am currently strapped to a chair.

Ari was chuckling, his back turned to me. I heard a loud whizzing noise, like a very loud toothbrush.

When he turned and slowly came up to me, I saw him holding those electric drill-needle things—the ones they use to tattoo people. He buzzed it again, making me flinch at the loud noise.

"I was j-just asking around," I spluttered. "I-I swear, I don't know anything!"

He leaned closer, bring the drill within a six-inches of my eyes. "If I tattoo the word "snitch"—or better yet, "dead snitch"—across your eyelids…"

I interrupted him, feeling really nervous. "L-Look, all I know is that there is this reporter," I said, shakily. "a-and she said something about a car with stolen plates at a suicide."

He froze, eyes flashing with an expression I couldn't read. "What is her name?"

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

**FPOV**

I dialed the office.

To my surprise, Lissa didn't pick up; The other secretary, Lupo, did.

Lupo and Lissa absolutely hated each other. And honestly, I liked Lupo a lot more. She was more…easy to communicate with. Lissa was kind of a hothead about things.

"Sid's Bail Bonds," I heard her say. She sounded distracted and bored, and I could hear her popping her gum as she spoke.

"Guess what _I_ have in _my_ trunk?" I asked Lupo.

She groaned. "Is this some sort of perverted innuendo? _Who is this?"_

I chuckled. "Oh, c'mon, Lupo, it's me—you know it's me!"

She laughed. "Oh heyy…sorry Fang. I've just gotten a few _odd_ calls recently."

"No probem. Hey, I need to talk to Sid."

I heard her sigh. "Yeah, well he's not available right now. Last I heard, he was trying to start a fire with two sticks in pure rage."

I smiled, remembering Sid was going camping with his kids. Poor Sid… "Yeah, well just tell him that I got her, and I want a bonus for bringing her in so soon."

"Yeah, well,_ I_ wanna bonus for getting through the week without stabbing Lissa with a fork," she said. She almost sounded serious…

"The weeks not over, yet, Lupo," I reminded her.

She graoned again. "Don't remind me…"

My phone beeped; someone else was calling me. "Hey, I gotta go."

"Yeah, yeah, I gotta go too; _very_ busy—_buh bye."_ She replied, sarcastically

I pressed a button and saw the incoming call was Max. I decided to play with her a bit. "Hello, this is Fang. I'm sorry, but I'm not in at the moment to take your call," I said, with fake sweetness.

"Fang," I heard her growl. "Get. Me out. Of the _trunk_! _PLEASE."_

"Hmm….nope." I said. Looking into my rear view mirror, I added, "Oh, by the way. Your boyfriend Sam has been following me."

"He is NOT my boyfriend!" Max replied hotly.

"Well, he seems to think he is."

"Yeah? Well I seem to remember a time where I thought _you_ were _quite_ the catch, but that didn't stick, either!"

"Yeah…he doesn't really seem your type, " I continued, ignoring her.

"Ok. Fang, please," she said, more quietly. "I shouldn't have run, and I—you caught me off guard. And to tell you the truth, I think I may need your advice on something."

Uh-uh. I'm not falling for sweet Max. Because _sweet_ Maxie is actually _devious_ Maxie. "Well that's a real shame, sweetheart,'cause that ain't happening."

Silence.

"Hello?"

I heard her say, "Oh, _stop_…."

But it sounded like she was sobbing. And Max doesn't sob. "Hello?" I kept asking through her sobs. "Hello? Max?"

She paused, and then answered with a cracked, "What?"

I sighed, figuring what was going on. "Okay….remember how we used to be in love?"

Another pause. "Yeah," she answered quietly.

"Well, that means I know when you're crying for real, _and when you're faking it."_ I said to her. Laughing into the phone, I said, "Bye BYEEEE!"

I ended the call, causing loud bangs to erupt from the back of my car. "FANG!" I heard her angry, muffled voice shouting.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

**MPOV**

"GOD-_FANG!"_ I was shouting. I started kicking the trunk in fury. I can't believe he saw through my act.

My phone started ringing again and I picked it up. "Fang…" I growled. But looking at the caller-ID it said an unknown number.

Ugh. Probably someone from work, I thought. Clearing my voice and calming my voice down, I answered my cell and said, "Hello, this is Max Ride."

"Hey…it's me, Jimmy."

Shocker, much! I flipped over in surprise. "JIMMY! Oh my god….oh my god, Jimmy, I thought you were dead!" I said, freaking. "Where _are_ you? I—I left you, like, forty messages!"

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

**JIMMY POV**

I looked at Ari nervously, who was aiming a gun in my direction as I spoke. "Uh—yeah…sorry, my phone ran out. Listen—" I said quickly, trying to get to the point. "about this story—"

Max interrupted me. "Oh, what happened to you at Dunkin' Donuts?" she asked, referring to my absence and my smashed car.

"Oh, nothing," I replied awkwardly. My body was going nuts. I didn't like lying. "My, uh, friend stopped by." Ari nodded at me, in a way that said I was doing ok. "He needed my help with something."

"Was that before or after he busted your window?" Max asked flatly.

"I locked my keys in the car—whatever, it's a piece of shit anyway; it doesn't matter. Listen, where are you? You sound like you're in a closet."

I shut my eyes, guiltily. She pretty much told Ari her location. "I'm in Atlantic City," she answered. " Jimmy—I went to your apartment. I found a coaster, and on it you wrote something about missing evidence from the depository? Is there evidence missing from the suicide case?"

"Well that's kind of why I'm calling. See, it turns out to be a waste of time for everybody involved," I said.

"Who else is involved, Jimmy?"

Ari took the phone and ended the call, not allowing me to reply. "Very good," he said, looking at me smugly.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

**MPOV**

"Jimmy? Hello?" I frowned. He hung up on me!

Groaning, I tossed my phone aside and looked around the trunk for anything that could help me get out of here.

My eyes found the two flares, just waiting to be lit up. A plan formed in my head.

I reached for my bag, searching for a lighter…

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

**{A/N: And that leads us back to the scene from chapter one:}**

**FPOV**

Smoke…..

_Why is my car smoking_? I thought. Fantastic time for something to go wrong….

"Ah, shit," I muttered, realizing the problem. "Max! _MAX_!" I shouted.

Even with the driver-side window open, the smoke was becoming thicker, so I was forced to pull the car over onto the shoulder of the freeway.

I got out, slammed my door shut and popped to the trunk of my car, coughing through the foggy air. Max leaned out and tossed a bright red flare into the road; before I could put in a word, she punched me—hard—in my stomach, making me double over.

She stood over me, angrily shouting, "Did you _really_ _think_ I was going to stay in there the whole time?" Max shoved me over and took this opportunity to make a break for it.

"_Why_ do they always run…." I groaned, chasing after her. "Max, _c'mon!"_

"NO!"

"Stop running!" I tried again, nearing her.

"_NO! Leave me alone! _I am _not_ going to jail!" she screamed back.

"Get…._back here!"_ with one last yell I launched myself forward, tackling a loud Max into the grass.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

**The OC, the girl LUPO, from the office, belongs to MPHknows! To MPHknows: she's vaguely mentioned in here, but sound good so far?**

**Reviewssss por favor! :] thanks to those reading my story! **

**Any confusion anymore? I don't mind clarifying. Review if you still dont get it! (It's a little hard to explain the whole court thing; its easier if you already have some prior knowledge about Bail, and Court appearances, and Bail bonds….so…..sry!)**

**:}**


	4. Gamble, Gamble, Gamble: LOSE!

1: **DISCLAIMER (4 entire story, cuz imma forget) I DO NOT OWN MAXIMUM RIDE OR ****THEBOUNTY HUNTER.**

**2: U GUYS R SWEET. U force me to write more. XD**

* * *

><p><strong>-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-<strong>

**A/N: BACKGROUND INFORMATION: Remember Dwight? From the first chapter? He said Fang owes his boss some $$$? Dwight works for a "LOAN SHARK", or a person/company that loans out money to people. **

**3****rd**** POV**

Dwight walked into the hidden office in the back of a Souvenir Shop. The office belonged to his boss, Marian Janssen, who was _the loan shark._ She had a successful business; it was, of course, not known to the police. If they knew Marian sent out her own men to beat the crap out of people who don't pay her back, she would be in prison in the blink of an eye.

Marian turned around in her swivel chair so she was facing Dwight when he walked in. "What the hell happened to you," she said sharply, eyeing his injuries.

"Fang Boyd."

"Who?"

"_Nick_ Boyd. The one you sent me after? Asshole kneed me in the eye," Dwight muttered.

"If only I gave a shit," Marian said, sighing. "So did you get my money?"

Dwight awkwardly looked around the room, not meeting her eyes.

She stared, and stared, and stared at him, before soon she screeched out, "OMEGA!"

(hint: Omega + Dwight= partners)

**-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-**

_2 mintues later, sitting in front of Omega's computer)_

"Nick "Fang" Boyd," Omega read. "Ex-cop; fired last year for 'neglect of duty.' Current debt to us, because of gambling, is just over 11 grand (**$11,000)**." It was then that Marian came over. She slapped the ruler she'd been holding on the desk, making Omega and Dwight jump.

Omega continued. "We haven't seen a single penny and it's been two months."

"This is not good," Marian said, pacing the room. "We let this bum slide—people are going to start thinking that 'Hey, Marian's gone soft! We don't have to pay up!'"

She shook her head and pointed to the two of them. "No. You get him in here; Dwight—you break some part of his body, and then we'll have a Happy Fourth of July weekend!" She said cheerily.

* * *

><p><strong>-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-<strong>

**MPOV**

"Unbelievable," I muttered, now sitting in the passenger's seat. Fang had whipped out some trusty handcuffs and shackled my right wrist to the door of the car. "How did you find me?" I snapped at him through the open window.

We were parked at a gas station, and Fang was doing his windows. "Well, I had a little chat with your mother…"

My MOM? "You called my _mother? _She didn't know I was there."

"No, but she said you went to go 'suck up some luck.'" Fang replied. "And I remembered your Dad had some crazy theory that all the losing at the track must leave all this extra luck lying around." He continued to swipe his windows. "I knew you'd be in section 'D' because that's your lucky letter." He dropped the window-wiper he was using and turned to look at me oddly. "Who has a lucky letter?"

I was actually kinda stunned. "I didn't know you knew all that stuff about me," I called to him.

"Of course I do; we were _married_." He took returned the gas pump and walked over to his driver side window, leaning onto the edge with his forearms. "But honestly, I love being single. I love everything about my life. Great job, good friends, _hot_ girlfriend."

He caught me offguard with that. "Uh—_girlfriend?"_

"Yup. What—you didn't know that?" I just raised an eyebrow in reply. "Oh yeah," he continued. "I've had a number of crazy, exciting relationships since we crapped out. But I think this girl just might be the one."

"Hm. What's her name?" I challenged.

**-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-**

**FPOV**

I almost crashed when she asked that; but I couldn't let her know I was lying. "Uh—" I would've said Lupo, but she was Iggy's girl. "Lissa." I mentally slapped myself. In all honesty, she was the _last_ girl that I'd want to be my girlfriend…

She narrowed her eyes, trying to read me; I kept my face impassive as she asked, "And what does _Lissa_ do? She a stripper?"

"No, she is not a _stripper." _ I rolled my eyes. "She's a judge," I lied.

I knew I took her by surprise 'cause she looked confused; taken aback. "A judge?"

"A Court of Appeals Judge," I lied some more, trying to tick her off.

It worked, because the next thing I knew, she was calling out to me, "Ohhh, BULLSHIT. _Bull-shit!"_

"I'm not bullshitting you!" I said, holding in my laugh. "She's a Judge! Actually, kind of like the one you skipped out on."

She glared at me as I got back in the car.

**-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-**

**MPOV**

"Alright, that's it—I'm done. I give up. I give _up,"_ I was saying. We were driving through Atlantic City now, and it was dark. I had absolutely no intention of staying in this same enclosed space any longer.

Digging through my bag, I pulled out some money and said, "Just—I don't wanna play anymore; Here, take it." I handed the bills to Fang.

He kept driving, but was now looking between my money and the road. "What's that?"

"Five-hundred dollars," I replied. Waving the bills around, I added. "Just take it and dump me anywhere on the side of the road. Anywhere. Right here—I don't care."

"Honey, I'm getting five _grand_ just to bring your ass to jail—so do the math."

"No, _you _do it." I poked him in the shoulder.

"_No_," he replied indignantly.

I continued. "The Fang Boyd _I_ knew? He could take _this_ five-hundred dollars, walk into _any_ casino and turn it into 5 _thousand_—just like that," I pointed out, snapping my fingers. "He could turn it into _10 thousand."_

_TAKE THE DAMN DEAL!_ I was thinking.

Instead, he muttered, "Yeah? Try fifty."

Fifty thousand? I played the doubtful card. "I dunno…I wouldn't go that far."

Now he looked over at me. "Why not?" he asked, and I caught a hint of confusion in his voice.

I looked at him innocently, playing him. "I dunno—you think you still got it?"

"Hell _yeah_, I still got it." Then, as if he flipped a switch he said, "You know—this isn't about the money."

"Ah," I said, not believing him.

"It's about me doing my job." Sounded more like you're trying to convince yourself, Fangy….

I just made a fan with my money and fanned my face like one of those Japanese Geisha girls.

Fang looked at me.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Next thing I knew, Fang had pulled over and was uncuffing me from the car. As I got out, I said, "Alright. Now listen: If you win, you let me go. That's our deal—right? You get what you want, and I—"

He gave me a look and interrupted me. "Don't tell me—just c'mon."

We walked up to the casino we parked in front of: the Taj Mahal.

* * *

><p>-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

_Tailing Fang_

**3****rd**** POV**

"Oh, oh!" Sam spotted Fang and Max walking into the Taj Mahal. "Found ya! Wow….Sam!" he started talking to himself. "You are a huuugggge _stu-u-u-uud!"_

I found their car in the parking structure ad parked next to them.

* * *

><p>-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:<p>

_With Omega and Dwight_

**Still 3****rd**** POV**

Omega was on a bench next to the river, talking to Dwight on the phone. Dwight was in a supermarket, loading up on snacks.

"Dwight, be honest. Apart from chasing some guy down, breaking his legs, beating his face to a bloody pulp—you don't get a lot of aerobic exercise!" Omega was saying.

"Why are we even talking about this?"

"Because you're gonna get me killed one day when you're too slow to react in a life or death situation," Omega replied.

"I'm _not_ too slow!"

Omega's phone beeped and he told Dwight, "Hang on; it's Marian." He switched calls. "Yeah?"

"They spotted Fang at the Taj. He's driving a blue Delta '88," Marian said.

"I'm on it."

* * *

><p>-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

**MPOV**

"Ok, listen: there's this kid; he works at _Old Dule's_; he gives me information sometimes," I explained to Fang. We went down the escalators leading us into the casino floor.

"You mean he's a snitch," he corrected.

"_Fine,_ he's a snitch," I replied, irritated. "But I think he's in a lot of trouble. I had him ask around about the suicide—this guy that dove off of a roof—"

"Shows me what you know," Fang muttered. "Suicides don't _dive—_they go feet first."

"Is that true? How do you know?" I asked him.

"_Every cop_ knows that."

"Well, if every cop knows a suicide goes feet first, then why would a cop rule it as a suicide?"

Fang gave me a look as we got off the escalators. "How the hell should I know? Why don't you ask the cop who filled out the report?"

* * *

><p>-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

**SAM POV**

Getting out of my car, I ran—crouching low to keep out of sight.

To my right, Fang's car was parked. I crawled my way over to the back side of the car, crouching by the trunk.

Knocking on the trunk, I hissed, "Max! Max, it's Sam; I'm here to rescue you!"

After a few moments of silence, I panicked. "Oh my _god,_ she's passed out!"

I went around to the driver's door, opened it, and unlocked the trunk from inside of the car. "YES! _Hero_ time…!"

I returned to the trunk. "Okay—here you go, I gotcha—" Lifting the lid, I saw it was empty. "Ohh—Oh _shit. _Shit, shit, shit!" I slammed the trunk shut in defeat and found myself greeted by a blonde dude leaning against Fang's car.

He smirked at me. "Hi," he said. He nodded towards the car. "Delta '88, huh?"

_Think fast!_ "Uh, yep. Yep, it sure is. This is, uh, this is my car…" I answered awkwardly. It's not like I had a choice; either go along, or get reported to the police for B&E into someone's car…

The guy came to stand next to me as we looked at "my car."

I decided small talk would bore him and make him leave. "Yep, it was even used in an ice cube commercial." I mentally shot myself in the foot. Change of subject. "You a big fan of cars?" I asked. "'Cause what I really like about this is that—"

Suddenly, my face was being forced down into the back of Fang's car. Hello, blackness.

* * *

><p><strong>MPOV<strong>

"500 on the pass line, please," Fang said.

We were inside the casino now, at the Craps table.

Wait. 500. Say WHAT? "Whoa, whoa, whoa—you're betting _all_ of it? What if you lose?" I asked him, freaking out.

"Then we're back in the car. So if I lose, I _still_ win." I hated his logic. He held the two dice out to me. "Now blow on it."

I regarded at him with a weirded-out look. "No!"

"You always did it before," he pointed out, causing me to roll my eyes. "Look, you want me to win, don't you? If I win, you go free, remember?" He pressed. Fang gave me a look and I returned it, mocking him.

"C'mon, shooter. Roll the dice," the dealer said, clearly impatient.

I rolled my eyes again and blew on the dice.

In Craps, you pretty much have to get a 7 or 11 to win. If you roll, say, a 3, you have to get a 3 again before u get winning roll.

Fang rolled, and a 4 and 3 came up, making a 7.

…Win-ner! He doubled the money, going from $500 to $1000!

4 thousand more to go…

I blew again on the dice for his second roll. Like before, Fang was betting it all.

A 5 and 6 were rolled, and two more stacks of $500 came our way.

$2000.

He held the dice in his hand and gestured at to blow.

Aand….it's a 3 and 4.

Now we had $4000.

He placed _another_ all-in bet—all 4 grand.

Blow.

Roll.

It turned out to be a 5 and a 5, but the second 5 turned over to a 6, and Fang won 4 more thousand.

That's _$8000! He won!_

"Eight grand…so beautiful…" Fang smirked.

"See, you did it! I _said_ you'd do it, and you did!" I laughed. "I'm _outta_ here—You win, I walk!"

As I turned to leave, Fang grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Are you _kidding_ me, Fang? We had a deal! You win 5, I walk free!"

"No, you said 10."

"I said _5_ Fang."

"In the car," Fang said slowly, "you said I could turn _500_ into _10,000."_

"Yes, but _first _I had said—"

He cut me off. "No butts. _Why_ would I try to win 5 when I'm gonna _get_ 5 for bringing you in! That doesn't even make sense!"

"Well you know what doesn't make any sense? I'm walking; I'm leaving—okay? I'm outta here." I was already starting to walk away when he pulled me back again.

"Hey—no!" he placed me firmly in front of him. In my ear, he said, "You will _stay put_ until I win 10 grand—_then_ you walk, okay?" He held the dice in my face. "You have my word—now _blow."_

I just stared at the dice through narrowed eyes. "You're word is worth _shit."_

"Let's go, shooter!" the dealer pressed.

I just shook my head, annoying Fang. "You know what? Forget it; I can do this all on my own. It's all me, anyway," he muttered.

He rolled, and a 3 and 1 appeared. 4; _not _ a winner.

"Okay, four…I can do that," Fang said, thinking aloud. "Two 2's, or a 3 and a 1."

"Yuup. Or a 4 and a 0," I added sarcastically, knowing , of course, you can't roll a 0 on one of the dice.

"Shut up," he muttered, and he rolled.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

We got off the elevators at our floor.

Clearly, we were staying at the Taj Mahal for a little while.

And clearly, Fang was being a sore loser. "Of course you're to blame!" he was telling me. "What, a 4 and a 0? C'mon! You mock the Gods of Craps—and _I_ paid for it!"

"_The Gods of Craps?_! Do you hear yourself?" I exclaimed.

"No," he said, grabbing me and leading us down the left hallway. He spoke sarcastically. "All I hear is the sound of _eight thousand dollars_ in chips being swept away from me."

I groaned. "Fang—Fang you have _got_ to let me go!"

"No, I don't have to do anything except win my money back—which I will do as soon as I can find the damn room!"

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

_SLAM._ That was our door.

We finally found our suite. And it looked _fiiine._

"Wow. This is nice," I commented, observing the elegant furnishings.

"Glad you like it, 'cause you paid for it," he told me as we entered the bedroom. I caught a smirk on his face as he was passing me.

I grabbed his arm so he faced me. "I? _ I _paid for it? _Me?_"

"Yeah… I lifted your credit card," he explained, still looking smug. "I mean, it was a pretty shitty thing to do, but I feel better now that you know," he added, sarcastically.

"You _stole_ my credit card?" I shrieked.

"See, that's what you always do. I borrow your credit card and it turns into stealing. You're always blowing things out of proportion."

"You know what? Just stop it with the 'always' crap," I told him.

He was currently walking me over to the bed and sitting my down on the bed's right side, the non-window side of the bed. I paid no attention and ranted on. "We _dated_ for six months. We were _married_ for nine months. That is _fifteen months,_ okay? That is NOT 'always,' champ!" I corrected.

Sometime during my speech, Fang had pulled out those cold, hard handcuffs and handcuffed my right wrist to the horizontal bar on top of the headboard. My arm hung at a 40/45 degree angle. And I'm not too hot on that idea. "Hey—what are you doing?"

He ignored me, placing his duffle bag on the sofa at the foot of our bed.

I tried again, realizing he was leaving. "Hey. Hey, hey—where are you going?" he continued to ignore me and headed back towards the main room. "HEY! FANG!" I was shouting now. "Don't you _dare_ leave me here like this! _Fang!"_ I stood as best as I could, picked up a vase on the bedside table, and threw it at Fang. It missed his head by half a foot as he turned a corner. Instead, it hit the wall, exploding and raining to the carpet in pieces.

Fang popped his head around the corner just to say, "_You'll_ probably have to pay for that," he reminded me, and then disappeard.

I screamed out in frustration and plopped onto the bed in defeat.

* * *

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_*Time Skip*_

_9:OO PM~ Fang enters elevator, heading down into the casino confidently._

_3:OO AM~ Fang returns to their floor, stepping off the elevator all tipsy and wasted. _

_He returns to his room and immediately falls asleep on the bed._

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

* * *

><p><strong>MPOV<strong>

I heard him come in and I waited a few minutes before making my move. I propped myself up and peered over to my left. He was fast asleep and snoring softly.

And just a wee bit further on _his_ corner table was his gun. I needed that gun. Surely he'd uncuff me if I had his weapon, right?

So I did what I could.

I started my rolling over to my left and sliding my handcuffed hand along the horizontal bar it was attached to.

Now…how to get on the _other_ side of Fang. _Without_ waking him up.

I tried reaching across my right side of my body with my left arm, my free arm, desperately trying to grab the gun.

No chizz.

I almost fell on _top_ of Fang, but I caught myself on the bed with my left hand.

Ok. New plan.

_Awkward_ plan.

I slid my attached wrist, my right one, all the way across the bedframe until it reached the end—which was Fang's side of the bed. Then I held onto the frame with my left hand. To balance everything out, I had no choice but to lift my right leg over Fang and place that knee on his other side—on his left side; this left me in a _straddling_ position.

God, he better not wake up. Mind you, I'm still in a dress.

As I was reaching over _again_, I heard a groggy, "Whadar'youdoing?"

"What?" I gasped and looked down, seeing Fang looking up at me sleepily.

"Are you tryin' to seduce me?"

Some voice inside of me was screaming, _Play along!_ So I did.

I laughed slightly and gave him that flirty look I used to give him; smirking with a mischievous look, I flipped my hair over my shoulder. I pretended to give in, saying, "Yeah….I am…" I added in another slight laugh.

He chuckled with me. "_Wow_…" He took in a deep breath and added, "What would you like to touch first? You always loved my shoulders…"

I almost choked in surprise, but I continued the act. "Oh yes, your shoulders…and especially in the right jacket? So….impressive," I drawled on.

"How about my chest?"

"Soo….solid and _so_ strong…" I continued.

In case you hadn't guessed….I suppose I wasn't lying. Fang was a _very_ well built man…

"And my lips?"

I didn't hesitate as I answered, "Your lips are…a… _perfect_…match…for mine." I had leaned in to give him a kiss, hoping I would throw him off a bit so I could grab his gun.

As we were literally a centimeter apart, he interrupted us. "But what you'd really like to touch first," he said, making me slowly pull away from his face. "is powerful; sometimes dangerous." I looked at him curiously now. "It's hard…"

"Yes?" I pressed on.

I gasped in shock when he jerked his gun in my face. "And _that_ would be my gun," he finished, wearing his stupid, trademark smirk. (GOD I didn't even see him grab it!)

He started laughing at me as I rolled my eyes and glared down at him. "You are _such_ a dick," I told him. I groaned and rolled off him, collapsing back on my side of the bed. "_Such a dick…!"_ I was muttering.

He threw my words right back in my face when he added, "Yeah….but in the right jacket…" he continued chuckling.

_Ass…. _I thought, repositioning myself so he faced my back. I sighed in frustration.

* * *

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**I had such fun writing that last part... XD Hope this made up for the zillion of years I kept u waiting….. ^_^ sorrryyyy…**

**Thanks so much for the review guys. Haha, don't hold back! ;) **


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